


What If? (or Harry's Adventures in Slytherin) *First Year*

by imaklainer98



Series: The Hero Who Donned Green and Silver not Red and Gold' [1]
Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: DracoxHarry - Freeform, Drarry, F/M, M/M, Slytherin Harry, drarryau, harryxdraco - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaklainer98/pseuds/imaklainer98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry Potter had accepted Draco's hand in friendship at Madam Malkins? What if it had been Draco and the other Slytherins he'd sat with on the train to Hogwarts? What if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin, like he was supposed to have been? What if he was never in Gryffindor at all? </p><p>This story is about what happens when you do the things you may not always believe you should do. It's also about what can happen should you let it unfold... </p><p>HP AU with Slytherin!Harry and eventual Drarry as well!</p><p>Book #1 of 'The Hero Who Donned Green and Silver not Red and Gold' series (working title, in progress)<br/>To be hopefully 7 books<br/>May or may not follow the original plot lines of each HP book. Hard to tell...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ~In Which Accidental Aquaintances Are Made At a Robe Shop in Diagon Alley~

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Another Drarry story cause I'm absolute utter trash for anything pertaining to The Boy Who Lived and The Slytherin Prince... XD <3
> 
> Dedication: For all of us who at the best of times still ask such an age old question as "What if?" and for those who have the imaginative natures to answer it for us. Let your voice never be silenced out of ignorance, nor your pen cease its movements out of humiliation. One that is caused by those who will never comprehend the ideas birthed forth from another's mind.

The morning was alive due to the radiance of the sun's bright intense rays as they seemed to penetrate through everything in their path.  Several large pointed, colourful hats that adorned the tops of several witches and wizards who were strolling down the street were hit with such an extreme bout of sunshine from the impact, that they hastily removed their elaborate headgear and used it instead like one would a muggle Chinese paper fan, waving it back and forth against their faces.   
Despite the rise in the overall temperature in London's Wizarding World sector known as Diagon Alley, Harry Potter was more than thrilled to have escaped the clutches of the Dursleys. Elated was a more sufficient term for how he felt, as he followed closely beside a large, burly, bearded man who went by the name of Hagrid.    
" 'An 'at ter yer righ be Florish an' Blotts, an 'at ter yer left be Madam Malkins. A'so where we be 'eaded.", Rubeus Hagrid told the young boy as they approached a large, dark set of wooden double doors and strode on inside.   
The moment Harry stepped in, he was awestruck by just how many different kinds of robes and accessories there were for wizards like himself to wear. From a large armoire stuffed nearly to the brim with hundreds and hundreds of those funny, pointed-looking hats he'd seen a few of the townspeople with, to other sorts like fine, elegant dress robes and ties that actually appeared to have been made of real, imported silk.   
It was all so much for the newly eleven year old to comprehend and admire that he barely heard the voice that suddenly spoke up out of nowhere. Then, he gave a startled gasp as another boy who looked to be around his age, walked over to him and smiled in greeting.     
"Hullo", he said, his voice very much containing the same familiar English accent that Harry's did.   
"Hogwarts, too?", he asked just as quickly, when he saw Hagrid reappear beside Harry, but now with a simple, black, uniform robe in his large, ruddy hands.   
Slowly, Harry nodded and this only caused the mysterious boy to smile even more, the corners of his mouth turning up into a delighted grin.   
Then, as if he'd finally realized his social faux pas, he chuckled nervously before extending a hand out to the other dark-haired boy.   
"Name's Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy."  
As Harry shook Draco's hand weakly, he tried to figure out where he had heard that name before. It wasn't foreign to him and he was positive that-  
"And, you must be?", Draco asked anxiously, breaking Harry from his thoughts.   
"Uh, H-Harry. My name's Harry. Harry Potter."  
Draco's face split into a full-out grin, then his expression faltered as his silver-grey eyes darted back up to stare at the boy standing before him.   
"H-Harry P-Potter? You mean like the famous Harry Potter who conquered the Dark Lord when he was only a year old? That Harry Potter?!", he exclaimed, sounding amazed and in disbelief.   
Shrugging, Harry nodded and then sighed.   
"Y-yes. Why? Do many know of me?"  
Draco cocked a light blond eyebrow, a shocked look appearing on his pale, slightly pointed face. Vaguely, Harry was reminded of the hats he'd seen atop the heads of witches and wizards milling about in the hot sun.   
"Are you kidding? Of course many people know of you, Harry. Why, you're a regular celebrity to practically everyone! The wizarding world's favourite young wizard, The Boy Who Lived!"  
Harry just stood there in complete and utter shock, trying in haste to soak it all in.   
He-he was famous here? People actually knew his name?   
Finally, Draco stopped rambling on about how well known Harry was in the magical world and he cast another glance at the boy.   
"You actually didn't know.", he said, it wasn't a question.   
Harry shook his head, his dark, unruly fringe falling over his eyes. He reached up to brush it away. As he did so, Draco suddenly caught a glimpse of the infamous scar that You-Know-Who had left on Harry and gave a delighted whoop of joy.   
"Bloody hell, it is you! You're bloody Harry Potter!"  
He began to jump around excitedly at this newfound knowledge of finally meeting the actual, one and only Harry James Potter and Harry in turn, found himself being pulled into the jovial commotion as the blond-haired boy spun about with him, causing Harry to become immediately dizzy.   
Hagrid, who had been observing from afar once again after he'd gone to show Harry the robes he'd found, chuckled softly at the back of the shop, as he looked up from searching a rack of brightly coloured cloaks. He was pleased to see that little Harry had made a new friend and could only hope that for the boy's sake, they'd be sorted into the same house, so that the two would still be able to converse regularly. Then, after a fleeting moment, he turned back to his task of finding Harry a proper wizard's cloak to wear for school and dismissed his gaze from the two boys.   
After, Draco had gotten over the initial thrill of having finally met his idol, he stopped spinning Harry around and instead fixed him with a pointed look, his pale hands still loosely holding the other's.  
"So, any thoughts as to what house you want to be placed in?"  
Harry who knew nothing about any of the Hogwarts houses, shook his head.   
Draco beamed at him.   
"I think I'd like to be in Slytherin best, wouldn't you? They stand for things like being ambitious and resourceful. Also, my father would no doubt have a bloody fit if I wasn't sorted into that particular house, because it's where all of my family have been placed. Every single witch or wizard in the Malfoy clan has come from the house of Salazar Slytherin, so why should I be any different?", he asked, glancing down briefly to marvel at Harry's hand that still lay in his. Harry nervously swallowed and then shrugged before he asked: "What are the other possible houses that we'll be sorted into?"  
Draco sighed, seemingly uninterested in discussing anything that wasn't related to him and his family, personally.   
"Well, there's Hufflepuff, but don't worry we won't be sorted into that one, hopefully. Unless of course, you throw a sudden tantrum during the sorting, then I can't promise you otherwise. Then, there's Ravenclaw, but that's another one you won't have to worry about unless you happen to be a bloody bookworm who's always on the hunt for knowledge. You know, eager to learn. Are you eager to learn, Harry?", he asked as an afterthought, fearing the boy's answer.   
Harry grinned and shook his head.   
"Nope", he replied cheekily, popping the 'p'.   
Draco seemed to exhale in relief.   
"Good, because I thought that maybe you would be. After all, you are Harry Bloody Potter, for all I know you could turn out to have been some stuck up bloke who's a complete show-off!"   
Harry frowned and then chuckled softly.   
"You'd be surprised how very wrong of an assumption that is, Draco. I can assure you that despite my fame here, I am actually really quite humble."  
Draco gave a sudden smirk at that, his lips turning up on one side.   
"Good to know."  
Harry waited for him to continue.   
"And then finally, there's Gryffindor. All of those bloody Gryffindors all have the same irritatingly annoying trait, bravery. They all portray themselves as being these bloody courageous, fearless gits, but I am convinced that half of them would probably take off at the mere talk of You-Know-Who!"  
Harry stopped, glancing at the other boy, curiously.   
"You-Know-Who...who's that?"  
Draco sighed.   
"It's what all of the wizarding world uses to refer to the Dark Lord. Apparently, he used to be so powerful that there were those who didn't even dare speak his name. My own father-", but at this, he stopped himself and let go of Harry's hands at last as he began to stroll around the shop once more.   
Harry, feeling suddenly confused, followed after his friend who was now meticulously rummaging through a large box of newly imported silken robes, not daring to meet the other boy's incredibly green eyes.   
Sighing, Harry cast another glance at Draco Malfoy the strange boy with platinum, blond hair and oddly striking pale-grey eyes, before trailing back over to where Hagrid stood, having just used some of Harry's galleons from Gringotts to purchase his school robes.  
"Ar yer 'eady to go now, 'arry?", he asked, looking down at him, with large, soft eyes.   
Nodding, Harry walked back over to the doors with the giant and just before they both stepped out into the scorching summer heat of late July, he caught sight of Draco over by a rack of what appeared to be winter robes made of mink and other exotic animal furs. He smiled shyly at Harry and waved. Harry was about to wave back to his new friend, but then suddenly the skinny frame of a tall woman seemed to materialize at Draco's side and she shot a look at her son when she saw him waving to something or rather someone over on the other side of the shop. She had hair the same platinum blonde colour as Draco did, and Harry figured that she was probably his mother. Her nose was upturned in disgust at her son's overly friendly behaviour and she grabbed ahold of him quickly and pulled him around to face her stern glare.   
Harry saw his friend nod sadly at his mother before Hagrid was ushering him cheerily out of Madam Malkins, as Harry tried to follow at the giant's fast pace. His mind was elsewhere though, preferably focused on the boy he'd met in the shop and on the Hogwarts school houses and which one he thought might best suit him, as Hagrid began dragging him happily in the direction of another shop.


	2. ~In Which Narcissa Is a 'Mother Hen' & Draco Decides to Sleep In Today~

It was not until about three or so weeks later, when Harry was getting ready to board the Hogwarts Express with two new friends he had recently made, that he suddenly spotted Draco.   
He was standing near his mother, who was dressed in what appeared to be some sort of costly fur cloak and she was holding onto her son firmly, as he whined in protest to be let go.   
"Mum, please. I'll be alright, really. Please do stop, or I'll end up missing the train."  
Draco Malfoy didn't yell at her, rather he seemed to be trying to reason with his mother. This caused Narcissa to relent, as she finally removed her posh, white-gloved hands from where they had rested twined about her son's waist.   
She still could not believe for the very life of her, that he was eleven years old now. It had seemed to all just fly by in a rapid blur and had led up to this exact moment, when she would finally have to let him go. Narcissa did not want to part with her beloved son, even though she would most likely see him at Christmas. Neither her nor Lucius trusted the school to take care of their child, or in Mr. Lucius Malfoy's case, his protégé.   
"Mum?"  
Narcissa had released her hold on Draco, but now she just stood there seemingly staring at nothing and everything all at once. Finally, she attempted to get the words out.   
"I-I hope you have a wonderful first year at Hogwarts, love."  
Draco flashed her a bright smile as he reached down to get his luggage.   
He had just started walking away from her when he all at once turned around and waved excitedly back at his mother.   
"Goodbye mum, I promise I'll owl you just as soon as I can!", he shouted across the train station platform of nine and three quarters, before turning away from her and boarding with the other children.   
Narcissa watched the great, scarlet steam engine until she was certain it had vanished completely from sight down the long expanse of steel tracks. Then, she cast a longing look at her slightly trembling gloved hands and silently told herself to pull it together.   
After all, parents of wizarding children did this sort of thing every year. So, why did the thought of going home to Malfoy Manor without her son seem like some sort of impossible feat?   
She sighed and at last started to walk back towards the divide in the wall where they had came in. They had been in a hurry, due to the fact that unlike most days, Draco had slept in and had only gotten up when she had barged in herself and after she had sent about five house elves to rouse him.  
~~~  
"Master Draco must get up, sir. Master must get up or he will be late for the train to Hogwarts, sir!", a scrawny, greyish, green-coloured elf who went by the name of Dobby had said, as he tried in haste to strip off the bedding from the stubborn boy's bed.   
This had only caused Draco to growl out in protest, as he pulled back against the house elf's surprisingly firm grip, grinning when he extracted his bedcovers from it's hands.   
He had then plunked back down into his soft, incredibly warm bed and closed his eyes, silently hoping that the house elves would think he had really gone back to sleep.   
But, such was not the case, because then Draco heard his bedroom door being angrily flung open and in moments, the upset, flushed face of his mother was before him.   
"C'mon Draco, it's time to get up! If you don't hurry up and get dressed, eat something and get your bags packed, you are going to miss your first day of school! Now, you know that your father and I can't take you there ourselves, because we have our own matters to attend to, so c'mon hurry! Your father is having quite the fit right about now! So, let's go!"  
The eleven year old wanted to argue with her and say that it was still much too early to be going anywhere. But, he knew better than to test the limits of the patience his parents had. Without another word, Draco reluctantly pulled the covers off of himself and slowly stood up. This earned him a pleased look from Narcissa who nodded in approval, before disappearing back out into the corridor.   
Once he had gotten properly dressed, tucked into a splendid breakfast and packed up all his necessary belongings in his school trunks, Draco followed his father to their elaborate fireplace and got ready to Floo to the station.   
"Your mother will have to accompany you there today, I am afraid.", Lucius said rather suddenly, stepping back from the fireplace as he did so. Although, his tone made it clear that he wasn't that upset about the turn of events at all.   
Narcissa seemed to catch on at her husband's words and nodded an affirmative nod.   
"Yes, your father has a lot of work to do regarding his job at the Ministry right now and can't afford to be absent."  
Draco scoffed at that, then eyed his father suspiciously.   
It was common knowledge to most everyone in the Wizarding World, that the Malfoy's could afford practically almost anything. Especially, when it came to time and money. But, he wasn't about to argue with Lucius about something like that when-  
"We're going to be late!", Narcissa screeched, as she reached into a fair-sized, crystal jar that sat on the mantel and took out a small handful of powder for her son and then herself.  
"Now remember, speak clearly this time!"  
Draco's face flushed to a slight crimson.   
The last time he had attempted to travel by Floo, somehow he had ended up in an entirely different part of London then he had wanted to go to. It had taken both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy almost two hours to find him and afterwards, he had been given a proper scolding and told to never pull a stunt like that again.   
He nodded meekly and then stepped forward, taking a deep breath.   
"King's Cross station.", he said, speaking as clearly as possible and sighing in relief, when he felt the world suddenly go hazy around him as he was transported to what he hoped, was his destination.   
It was.   
Beaming, Draco turned to face his mother who had also just stepped out of the Floo and was now approaching him.   
"You remember what to do when we get to the platform right, love?", she asked, using her gloved hands to brush off some dirt that she had accumulated on her new fur cloak.   
Draco had nodded and walked up to where there was a definite amount of space between platforms nine and ten. He took another deep breath and ran full-force at the wall, pummelling through it...   
~~~  
The young blond-haired boy now sighed as he thought back to earlier that day and tucked his feet underneath himself so that his ebony, black cloak covered them from view. He then fixed his gaze on four other individuals who had just boarded the train as each in turn, took a seat on the same side he currently inhabited.   
They were by no means strangers to him, on the contrary, he knew them all quite well. Especially, the dark-haired girl who had decided to sit closest to Draco, who's name was Pansy Parkinson.   
She was also eleven years old and came from a well-respected wizarding family much like his own. It was said, in passing anyway, that both families hoped their children would someday marry and bring forth an heir to both the Malfoy and the Parkinson clans.   
Draco knew of this, but always shuddered almost as if there was suddenly an unnerving draft in the room, every time one of his parents (or Pansy's rather) brought it up.   
That was why he regarded her now with a cold sort of distaste, as she sidled her small frame closer so that her shoulder brushed slightly against his. At once, causing chills to run down the other's spine and back slowly yet purposely away from her.   
If Pansy noticed then she paid the matter no mind at all and instead, met the dark brown eyes of her friend Blaise Zabini, who had taken up residence farthest from the two, practically pressed against the tinted glass of the train's window.  
"Mind not smashing me into this bloody corner, please?!", he asked angrily and with a tinge of annoyance to his voice, as Crabbe suddenly backed up into him more, so that he could barely move, practically pinned to the glass like some sort of trapped insect.   
Likewise, Goyle also pushed in closer towards the window so that Blaise was basically hidden behind the boy's chubby and stout build.   
He moaned out in pain and rage, which caused Draco to finally look up. Or, so he'd thought, until he himself somehow managed to pry his squashed body away from the window to allow a glance at the sudden intrusion. Blaise then let out an agitated sigh when he saw that it was just another kid getting on board the train for Hogwarts. Then, he caught a glimpse of Draco's expression and promptly froze, as Crabbe and Goyle's elbows 'accidentally' made contact with his tailbone. Blaise yelped similar to how a wounded canine might and resigned himself to hours of uncomfortable poking and prodding from the two.   
Thankfully, the boy who had entered their compartment seemed to notice Blaise's distress (unlike the rest) and offered to take his place pressed up against the window, but to the dark-skinned boy's disappointment, Draco had disagreed before instantly pushing Pansy off her seat beside him and beckoning for the dark-haired, be-speckled boy to sit down.   
This of course, had earned him a stern glare from said girl, that he pretended to ignore as he flashed a cheery smile at the 'intruder'.   
"Crabbe, Goyle, Pans, Zabini, I'd like you to meet my new friend, Harry Potter."  
There was a silence as all of them turned quickly to gaze in complete awe and wonder at The Boy Who Lived, who blushed as he caught their stares.   
Draco actually laughed as he subconsciously pulled Harry closer to him, the other boy incapable of stopping him, due to his sudden nervousness.   
"H-Harry P-Potter? The Harry Potter?", Pansy exclaimed at last, clearly in disbelief.   
Harry gave a slight nod and they all sucked in a collective breath.   
"H-How?", she asked, but now her eyes were fixed on Draco.   
The blond shrugged casually, as if it wasn't unusual for him to meet, let alone befriend somehow who was only the most famous kid in all of the wizarding world.   
"Saw him at Madam Malkins, I did.", Draco told them all proudly, chest puffing out slightly in pride as he relayed the story of how he'd met well, their idol simply by mere chance.   
"He was with that giant who my father's always going on about, saying how bloody stupid he is. Buying robes, he was. Right, Harry?"  
Harry could only nod, still feeling incredibly on-edge with who he suspected were Draco's friends.   
"Y-Yeah.", he finally managed to get out, before casting his gaze on the plush carpeting of the train compartment's floor. This one he noticed, appeared to be a particular shade of forest green with accents of silver fibres mingling among it's design. It was the type of pattern that one could easily lose themselves in without much thought.   
Harry jolted roughly in his seat, as he heard someone cough loudly and he forced himself to look at Draco and the blond's still gawking friends, again.   
One thing was certain if nothing else. He could hardly wait to depart from this train and distance himself far enough away from these people that unnerved him so. Silently wishing that Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were there , so that then maybe he wouldn't feel like he was on some bloody pedestal at least fifty feet above ground level.


	3. ~In Which They Arrive at Hogwarts By Riverboat and A Student Face-Plants~

As the blurry expanse of Scotland countryside whizzed past right before his unwavering gaze, Harry Potter suddenly heard the sounds of excited squeals and shouts of joy, which no doubt conformed his assumptions. They'd made it to their destination at last.   
Carefully, he reached up to grab his trunk from the overhanging baggage storage and began to exit the compartment, the wheels of the trunk silent against the carpet floor, as he pulled it along behind him.   
Draco Malfoy watched the dark-haired boy roll the trunk he possessed slowly down the long corridor towards the exit door. He sighed, before he then reached up to extract his own belongings from the large rack that was directly above him, making sure not to accidentally bump his head in the process.   
Likewise, other students soon followed suite, first Pansy, then Crabbe, who was quickly followed by Goyle and then finally Blaise, who looked relieved at the prospect of getting off this wretched train, at last.   
One by one, kids stepped through the open door, climbed down the small flight of steps and then went off to board a group of riverboats that were tethered to long ropes tied to a wooden pole, where a familiar giant stood, smiling as each of them began to amble into them.   
When it was Harry's turn, he hopped into one of the boats and waited as more students got in with him. Among them, were Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle.   
Finally, Hagrid climbed in and then they began to descend down the long, dark, murky, black waters towards a large building that resembled the look of some sort of medieval castle from the Middle Ages. It had towering spires and a drawbridge that came down just as their boats kissed the edge of the river's shallow embankment.   
Moments passed as Harry and the others began to stand and make their way over to the front bow so that they could climb out onto slightly mud-slicked terrain. Their shoes emitting squelching sounds as they touched the surface, some even slipping so that their robes become soiled.   
Hannah Abbot was one of those unfortunate few. She lost her balance and fell face first down onto the muddy ground, her robes and hair now caked in the offending substance as she walked with her head bowed in embarrassment up to the doors of Hogwarts.   
Likewise, others had followed in her footsteps and also walked across the school lawns, decked out in mud, now.   
However, that was not the case for Draco, who still remained perfectly clean and polished as he strolled along beside Harry, the two absorbed in a conversation about the school's most well-known recreational sport, Quidditch.   
"I've seen the Chundley Cannons play practically every year. Father always takes me and mother, it's bloody swell to watch!"  
"Really? Wow. I've never actually been to any sporting events before. My aunt and uncle don't believe in taking me out anywhere, to tell you the truth."  
Draco seemed to frown at that.  
"Whatever do you mean 'they don't believe in taking you out anywhere?", he inquired, as they continued their trek towards the castle gates.   
Harry simply shrugged. Draco gave a reluctant sigh and the subject was instantly dropped.   
The two boys kept up their steady pace until at last they reached the large, ornate oak doors, where Hagrid then stopped and lifted a large, meaty paw in greeting to them all once more.   
"Wel'come ter Hogwarts ev'ryone! My name's Rubeus Hagrid and if yeh need anything at all. Jus' let me know an I'll be sure ter help yeh! Now then, yeh may go on in an start your year!", he bellowed loudly, but in such a way, that even the smallest child did not seem intimidated by him.   
As at least a hundred small-statured bodies passed by them, Draco pulled Harry aside and cupped a pale hand over the boy's ear, before whispering softly into it: "Bloody wanker!", just before the large bulky build of the giant came into view.   
Despite himself, Harry laughed. An agreement that signified he thought likewise of their so-called tour guide.   
Later, he'd regret it, but in the moment, he had only wanted to please and impress Draco Malfoy.


	4. ~In Which The Sorting Occurs and An Unexpected Run In With Professor Snape~

The long hallways of Hogwarts were more grand and elaborate than Harry had scarcely thought to be possible.   
But sure enough, it seemed every turn as they walked on through the castle, held some sort of enchanted painting or a mystical suit of armour that shone with an eery light, causing him to be blinded by its brilliance for a mere second.  
When they at last stopped in a hall that appeared to be set up for some particular meal of sorts, Harry noticed that there was a woman in robes with a pointy hat who had grey hair pinned to the top of her head tightly in a coiled bun and that there was a old man with a snow-white beard and donning a pair of gold-tinged, half-moon spectacles that rested low on the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. He too, wore similar robes and an odd hat upon his head.   
"Welcome Students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!", he exclaimed to the whole crowd of people gathered in the doorway, causing them all to look over at him as if in a trance.   
"My name is Albus Dumbledore and this is Minerva McGonagall! We are delighted to welcome you all to this school and hope that while you are a student here at Hogwarts, you will behave as such and Merlin willing, will discover your true purpose in life! Now then, please be seated so that we may begin to call you up one at a time for the house sorting!"  
A few cheers were uttered and then silenced by the reproachful stares of other students.   
The woman standing near Dumbledore unrolled a thick, beige roll of parchment and began to read off each student's name in alphabetical order.   
"Abott Hannah!", she proclaimed in a clear, concise voice and a nervous looking, still caked in mud girl, slowly walked up to the empty chair that seemed to practically materialize seconds after.   
Cautiously, she sat down, her body entirely situated on the edge of the chair, as Professor McGonagall placed an old, brown, ratty, pointy hat on the girl's head, so that it basically covered her eyes.   
Then, it was completely silent, as each student watched with baited breath, waiting to see what would happen next.   
Suddenly, the hat resting atop Hannah's head, did something quite remarkable. Or so, to the gathered first years, anyway.   
It began to act like a person, it's leathery creases moving so that it appeared as if the hat had a mouth and then it spoke, it's voice ringing out across the large room.  
"Hufflepuff!", it roared and a startled Hannah Abott rose from her seat and shakily headed over to join a table of students that were dressed in yellow and black robes, some even donning scarves with the same exact colour scheme. She attempted to smile meekly at them and their cheers were heard once more, as they embraced her as their own.   
After that, the sorting went on much smoother without much hassle to say the least and Harry was just getting used to the idea of being sorted when Professor McGonagall called out in a commanding tone: "Malfoy Draco!"  
"That's my cue!", he told Harry and got up, practically running over to the chair and sitting down just as quickly.   
Professor McGonagall had just barely placed the hat on the blond boy's head when it screamed out rather abruptly: "Slytherin!"  
Draco grinned triumphantly and jumped down from the chair, immediately heading over to a table on the far side of the room, where people dressed in dark green robes and green and white striped scarves waited expectantly.   
When he at last sat down, a pudgy boy was still conversing excitedly with him and across the room, he caught Harry's gaze and grinned again.   
After what felt like millions of names later, Harry's was finally called, and just the sound of it, brought a new rush of sudden adrenaline to him.   
"Potter Harry!"  
Immediately, Harry stood and walked as fast as he could over to the chair and held his breath as the hat was placed on his head, it's wide brim shielding the other students from view.   
There was a bout of silence, as the hat seemed to consider just what house the dark-haired, scrawny, be-speckled boy should be sorted into.   
But at last, it decided on what seemed best and with a loud cry it said: "Slytherin!"   
Instantly, Draco sprang up in his seat at the Slytherin table and cheered, followed shortly after by his new colleagues, who in turn, gave Harry a warm welcome as he made his way over to them.   
Then, when the sorting was at last complete, everyone sat down to an incredible feast to welcome in the new school year which would start the following day.   
Throughout the whole meal, Draco kept excitedly talking to Harry as well as his two other friends who had also been sorted into the Slytherin house, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Together, they all sat, contentedly stuffing their faces and rambling on about random nonsense like there was no tomorrow in sight.   
It wasn't until almost midnight that Harry and Draco at last stumbled down the staircase that led to the dungeon that housed the Slytherin common room area, and were greeted by the unamused, stoic expression on Professor Severus Snape's face.   
Snape, Draco had said, was his godfather and so it didn't surprise anyone much, when the greasy, dark-haired bat-like man let the two of them in.   
"The password is 'quicksilver'", he muttered, and Draco actually flushed slightly in embarrassment.   
"S-Sorry, Professor Snape.", he admonished.   
The man standing in the doorway simply rolled his dark eyes.   
"Just, don't let it happen again, Draco.", he said and the blond nodded, profusely.   
"Y-Yes sir!"   
Snape placed the fingers of his right hand against the bridge of his crooked, pointy nose and gave it a slight pinch.   
"Please don't shout so."  
Another flush from Draco as he nodded again.   
Snape sighed, handing his godson a piece of rolled up parchment and then reluctantly, he held one out to Harry.   
"What is it?", the dark-haired boy asked.   
"It's your time table for your school year, so that you may know what classes it is you are currently enrolled in. Also, before I forget, you two are rooming in the boy's dormitory with Zabini, so behave."  
"Blaise?", Draco couldn't help but ask and Snape, pinching his nose again in clear irritation nodded before muttering something about wanting to sleep already.   
He then walked away, dark black robes billowing out behind his form as he strode, until he was no longer in plain sight.


	5. ~In Which Blaise Zabini Tells It Like It Is & Draco Malfoy is a Drama Queen~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry bout the wait... 
> 
> Enjoy, friends! : )

"The bed on the far side of the room next to the window is mine, already called it.", Blaise Zabini told them in what he would deem to be a sort of greeting.   
He had been lounging in a dark green, winged-back chair, a recent copy of the Daily Prophet resting precariously in his lap as he thought about his mother back home, and what she would have to say about his house placement. No doubt, she would have a right fit upon finding out and might even decide to pull Blaise out of the school, altogether. Or, if she was particularly tipsy when she at last was notified, she'd simply have a laugh and then forget she even had a son to begin with. Whatever the case, one thing was certain, his mother, the bloody tramp that she was, wouldn't care.   
It was the sound of the common room door creaking open that roused the dark-skinned boy from his listless musings. Followed by the sudden appearance of two figures, one of which, Blaise knew well.  
That had been the first thought in his mind, to put them both in line. He had not even pondered it when he uttered it aloud.   
"Who died and made you the bloody Queen of England?", Draco Malfoy shot back.   
Blaise bristled at the comment. Then, watched the dark-haired boy to see if he would throw in his own two sense to Draco's snide remark.   
But, all he seemed to do was stand there in the doorway, beside the blond who Blaise unfortunately had the utmost pleasure of knowing practically since they were in nappies. Then, he turned his bright green, spectacle-clad eyes to glance at Blaise, before bringing them immediately back to rest on Draco's grey ones.   
Blaise coughed, finding his voice in the sudden silence.   
"Who's the boy?"  
That seemed to get his friend's attention, because Draco abruptly shot his gaze away from the scrawny, brunette and regarded Blaise with a terror-stricken look.   
"What boy?"  
Blaise snorted, gesturing to the dark-haired individual beside Draco.   
The blond flushed a noticeable shade of crimson.   
"Oh, just Harry Potter.", he said, suddenly no longer seeming so sure of himself.   
The darker's eyes instantly widened and he stared in disbelief at Draco.   
"R-Really?!"  
The blond nodded, before grinning. His self esteem once again restored.   
"Yup", he declared, popping the 'p' for great emphasis. "The one and only."  
Blaise's gaze fixed on the boy known as 'Harry Potter' and his mouth opened slightly in a state of complete and utter shock.   
Draco smirked at his friend's awestruck behaviour.   
"Close your mouth, Zabini. You'll catch flies.", he said and chuckled when Blaise snapped his open mouth shut, before scoffing.   
"Will not! There's not even any bloody flies in here!"  
The blond gave him a questioning look to which Blaise responded by making a vulgar hand gesture, before he rose from his chair.   
Instantly, he regretted the action, as Draco dashed over and plopped himself down in the now vacant armchair, slinging his arms over its armrests.   
"Thanks for keeping my seat warm.", he said, laughing when he saw Blaise give him the same impulsive gesture again, out of the corner of his eye.   
"Oh, stop, you. You love me."  
Blaise stuck his tongue out and shook his head.   
"C'mon, I know you do.", Draco teased, batting his eyelashes in a playful way at the dark-skinned boy.   
Blaise started to make retching sounds in protest.   
Draco put on a look of mock hurt.   
"Hey, stop that!", he exclaimed.   
But, Blaise continued to pretend to hurl.   
The blond sunk low in his seat, folding his arms over his chest and sticking his lower lip out in a pout.   
Harry, who had only by this point thought to come to his own friend's rescue, ran quickly over to Draco, suddenly wrapping his arms around the other boy in a fierce hug.   
"It's okay, Draco.", he said softly, as he held the blond to him.   
"I'll protect you."  
Instantly, the other boy seemed to be more cheerful and his fit of pouting, ceased.   
Draco's grey eyes flicked up so that they landed on Harry's. Harry's likewise, fixated on the blond's.   
Then, Blaise suddenly coughed, trying to dispel the sudden silence between the three, that had evolved into the present once more.   
"It's high time we got to bed.", was all he said to his two new dorm-mates, before walking over to a door on the far side of the common room, opening it and then letting it close behind his retreating form with a soft yet subtle click.   
Once he had left, Draco tore his gaze away from Harry.   
He too, coughed to break the rising tension that still lay thick on the room's musty air.   
Harry immediately dropped his eyes to the floor. A pattern pieced together using green, silver and black marble tiles to create the depiction of a large, ominous anaconda in the very centre of the room, with the words: "Cunning, Ambition, Resourcefulness" engraved in a shiny metallic silver paint beneath it. Then, the remaining floor tiles branched out in a checked arrangement of sorts, alternating between green and white until at last reaching a point where the mosaic design merely halted, before an expanse of dark, forest, green carpeting ran the length of the sitting area.   
"Harry?", Draco asked, once again, perhaps for the millionth time that night, though the dark-haired boy was not entirely sure that such a thought was true.   
Sighing, he bought his gaze back up to rest on that of his friend's and saw the defeated look of exhaustion that now seemed so evident in the other's face. Draco Malfoy was trying to remain awake, but the yawn that broke through right then and the way his grey eyes dulled and drooped, ended up betraying him.   
He shook his head and then reached up with a hand to rub at his eyes, hoping to will the feeling of complete and utter tiredness away, if only for a while.   
"Blaise's right. We such call it a night."  
Draco stood and got up off the dark green, winged-back chair he had been residing in. He then threw Blaise Zabini's copy of the Daily Prophet on the floor, directly next to the chair.   
"C'mon, Harry.", he said, voice practically a whisper in the dense quiet of the Slytherin common room.   
"Let's go to bed."  
And with that, he began to walk across towards the same door that Zabini had entered what had seemed like hours before, but was only a matter of minutes.   
Only a moment later Harry followed, closing the door firmly behind him, as Draco at last found their dorm room amidst the other countless rooms in the boy's dormitory.   
"G'night, Harry. Sleep well.", he told the brunette, as he plopped unceremoniously down onto what he hoped, was a vacant bed and at once fell asleep.   
Harry Potter glanced over at his two friends, he could hear Malfoy begin to snore softly and Zabini mutter something about his mother, before at last he snuffed out the glowing, amber flame that was flickering madly about in a small, oil-burning lamp on his bedside table and collapsing into a restful slumber.   
Had he not found the Wizarding World to be so foreign, he could've just as easily used a smell to put out the lantern's light, rather than simply going about it the Muggle way.   
But alas, the great Harry Potter didn't know the spell, or any other for that matter, which he would eventually find out was 'lumos'.


	6. ~In Which Gravy Spills on Robes & Intrigue Ensues~

"So Harry, how's your day been so far?", Hermione Granger asks him, suddenly catching him off-guard in the hall, where around him, hundreds of students dressed in different coloured robes are milling about.   
He sees her house colours before he actually manages to make out her familiar figure among the throng of people. She's donning a dark shade of navy blue that when the silken fabric picks up the afternoon rays of sunlight, appears to seem brighter, almost as if the cloak fastened about her small shoulders is more of a deep blue than anything else.   
It still shocks Harry when he realizes that she's in an entirely different house than his, and at first he was certain that upon his sorting result, she would simply just never talk to him again. Well, that's what Ron Weasley had done anyway when he had found out.   
Sighing, Harry cast a sad look at the ground, finding the memory to still be something of a great disbelief to him.   
Hermione notices his expression change and she dashes over to him through the mass of bodies, her eyes bright and holding what she hopes is a sense of comfort for her friend.   
"Harry?", she asks, reaching out to grasp his hand in hers.   
But, the dark-haired boy tenses at the action and wheels away from her in shock.   
She tries again, this time lightly grabbing hold of his hand and forcing him to look over at her.   
Harry's body relaxes slightly and he doesn't jerk away from her this time.   
"Are you okay?"  
He nods slowly and Hermione although still unsure, lets go of the boy's hand.   
Then, her face splits into a grin.   
"Care to walk with me to the Great Hall?", she asks him, waiting for the slight nod of Harry's head before she grabs hold of his hand again and they both begin to hurry past everyone as they approach the grand, oak, double-doors. Hermione then opens one of them and ushers Harry past her, before following him inside.   
Little did they know, that Draco Malfoy had spotted them traipsing hand in hand towards the Great Hall together and the sneer he cast directly at Harry as he entered let the other boy know that he was not in the least, pleased.   
"Harry!", he exclaimed as a greeting as he ran over to the Slytherin table and promptly sat himself down next to his friend.   
The dark-haired boy attempted to smile at him, avoiding Ron's intense glare from where he sat, surrounded by a sea of Hufflepuffs.   
"Why didn't you wait for me?", he asks after a long moment, before reaching over to grab the pumpkin juice pitcher from Blaise.   
Draco then pours himself a fair amount, takes a mere sip, frowns sternly at his goblet than glances back up at Harry.   
The dark-haired, be-speckled boy quickly adverts his eyes, so that they are instead looking off at Hermione Granger. She appears to be settling in quite well among her blue robed counterparts, as they all watch her with a rapt fascination as she excitedly chatters on about the properties of polyjuice potion.   
In truth, he too, Harry thinks, is finding her discussion surprisingly quite engaging, so much so, that he is just on the cusp of getting up to go over and join the group at the Ravenclaw house table. That is however, until he hears the blond-haired boy clear his throat suddenly, which causes his gaze to shoot immediately back to his friend who looks none too amused by Harry's ignorance of him.   
To prove this further, Draco lets a frown pass over his, until then usually carefree expression, as slight indents that resemble somewhat crooked lines become visible on his large forehead.   
Harry lets out a reluctant sigh, grabs hold of the other's arm, trying to get his friend's attention.   
"Draco? Are you mad at me?", he asked, earning a vigorous head shake from the blond before said boy spun around on the bench seat, so that he was facing Pansy Parkinson.   
"And so, that's why my parents want me to attend Hogwarts.", she finished saying to Millicent Bullstrode, before picking up her goblet and bringing it to her lips.   
Pansy then took a small, dainty sip, her pale pinkish coloured lips barely making contact with the edge the goblet's rim, as she just as primly set it back down beside her plate.   
The dark-haired girl then flipped her ebony-coloured hair over her shoulder, despite the fact that it was styled in a pixie-bob cut and had been since that June. Only now, she realized, the strands that made up her usually perfectly trimmed bangs, fell lower so that they covered her pug-like face sort of like a piece of tissue paper.   
True, they had most definitely grown out since her last haircut, but there was nothing she could do about it until Christmas break in December.   
By this time, Millicent who had been watching Harry out of the corner of her eye similar to a hawk, while she intently listened to Pansy drone on and on about her own family matters, at last spoke up. Immediately, causing Harry to jolt back, accidentally knocking over a nearby gravy boat that Blaise Zabini had been only mere seconds away from using.   
"S-Sorry!", he blurted out, as the dark-skinned boy jumped up with a start, golden, brown liquid splattered across the seat of his forest green robes.   
"My bad! Are you alright?", Harry asked, trying to apologize for being as usual, unbearably clumsy. Well, not nearly as clumsy as a certain Hufflepuff Neville Longbottom, anyway...  
Blaise turned to look up at Harry and forced a weak smile as he bunched up the front of his robes in front of him, so that the gravy on them would not pool out onto the floor. Then, he walked off to the sound of questioning murmurs from his housemates and unwelcome sniggering from the others, including one Ron Weasley, who was nearly in tears, he was laughing so much.   
When he was gone, Harry felt the insistent tugging of his arm and with a sigh, turned to face Draco at last. His emerald green eyes shining right into the other boy's silver-grey ones.   
"Is there something you want?", the dark-haired boy asked him, immediately earning a slight nod from Draco, followed by a subtle smirk.   
After another few moments of silence passed between them, the blond inserted a hand into a deep, practically hidden pocket on his school house robes and brought out a piece of ivory-coloured parchment that appeared to be immensely crumpled and torn slightly at the edges. These, Harry noticed, were curled inward ever so finely that he concluded that it must have caught a flickering flame and started to burn at some point or another. Now though, it's corners still blackened and torn, the mysterious scrap of writing parchment looked to be, to Harry's surprise, entirely legible, save for a the last three words that had been hastily scrawled down in the bottom, right-hand corner. That led him to believe that it was a page of some sort, from one book or another, definitely one that dealt with spells he thought, due to the Latin word amortenia which seemed to stand out predominately on the page in bold, crimson ink.   
"W-where did you get that?", he asked Draco as his eyes strayed back over to the parchment, studying it intently.   
The blond-haired boy shrugged then the corners of his mouth turned up into another wicked looking smirk and he sat back on the bench, his hands folded neatly together on top of the table. He was on the verge of beaming at the discovery of having something that Harry Potter did not. And yet...  
"Found it in the restricted section of the castle library. Did you know that this place has its own library?"  
Harry avoided the abrupt question.   
"What? But, how? You know we're not supposed to go back there!", he exclaimed in a harsh whisper.   
Draco simply grinned.   
"Says who?", he shot back, tauntingly.   
"Madame Pince!", Harry said, loud enough that a few heads over at the Gryffindor table turned to glare at him, before they resumed their noonday meal.   
"I-I mean the librarian.", he amended, casting what he hoped was an apologetic look towards the sea of bodies clad in what Draco had said earlier that day, was a gaudy shade of red, only to watch as they all spun around in their seats, so that they were no longer facing his direction.   
"Ah yes, I see what you're getting at.", Draco told the other boy as he set about finishing a small mountain of potato salad that still remained on his plate.  
Harry's face brightened.   
"You do?"  
Draco laughed, as he brought a forkful of creamy mashed potatoes and herbs back up to his mouth.   
"No, I most definitely don't."  
The smile gracing Harry's lips faltered.   
"But-but, breaking a school rule is wrong. McGonagall even said so."  
As it had turned out, Professor Minerva McGonagall had informed the whole Hogwarts student and even teaching body that abusing the laws set in place by the headmaster of the school (Albus Dumbledore) would result in the expulsion of said individual and then the guilty party could explain to their parents why they had been cast out of one of the greatest wizarding academies in all of Europe, perhaps even in all the world.   
So that was why Harry Potter was reluctant to go along with his new best friend and housemate Draco Malfoy, because he feared that they too would be punished for their misdeeds should they get out of line.   
Just then though, when the blond suddenly shot up in his seat, globs of yellowish-white mashed potato flying through the air before they splattered against his robes and he shrieked in complete outrage, muttering something along the lines of my father will hear about this as he dabbed at his clothes with a silken, cloth napkin.   
Then, his gaze met Harry's and he grinned in what could only be described as a horribly sinister way.   
"I just had a thought.", the blond announced, loudly enough that others sitting at their table quickly looked over at him, their eyes alight with pure excitement.   
It was no secret to anyone in the Slytherin house, that Draco Malfoy was not someone you would want to negotiate with. Indeed, Pansy Parkinson had ended up learning that fact the hard way and still wasn't completely over with the matter that had occurred only last summer. A matter that Draco had yet to enlighten Harry of.   
"You should go with me next time to the library and we'll explore the restricted section together...won't that be nice?"  
Harry sucked in a sudden, worried breath at the words. Words that seemed to more of a command than a simple suggestion, almost as if the other boy was forcing him to follow through with the plan.   
To make matters worst, he then turned to look at each of his housemates in turn, his grin now positively feral as he asked: "Well, what do you lot think about that?"  
His response was an endless tirade of laughter.   
"Very well, it's set.", Draco began.  
"Harry and I will go up to the library tomorrow night after curfew ends and rifle through all of those books and scrolls that were told not to ever look through. Or else...", his voice trailed off, as he broke into a fit of laughter, along with the rest of the Slytherin table as Harry sat there and tried to think of some sort of excuse that might possibly get him out of this mess, but unfortunately he couldn't think of anything.   
Students at tables around them chose that exact moment to rise and collect their belongings as they then drifted towards the Great Hall doors and slipped through them, out into the corridor.   
Harry Potter could not scarcely believe his good luck as he got up from his seat and flashed Draco a grin, before he began to walk off.   
"Harry! Harry, wait up!", the blond called out after him, as he dashed off in haste to catch up with the other boy.   
Then, as an afterthought, he yelled: "You never gave me an answer!"  
That seemed to get the dark-haired boy's attention, because he slowly pivoted around in his place by the doors and frowned at his friend, in a very disapproving way.   
"I don't have to," Harry said, suddenly feeling very defiant as he stared at Draco, one hand coming up to rest on his hip.   
"because I'm not spending another moment with the likes of you."  
And with that, he flung open one of the doors and just as quickly, slammed it behind him with a definite bang, leaving Draco Malfoy alone in the Great Hall wondering just when exactly he had truly messed up big time and what he should do about it.


End file.
